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An Artist's Life
An Artist's Life
tells of artist, author, and architect Carlton Davis's relentless search for his soul's desire. With degrees in architecture, he works with luminary architects, but his métier is making art. He relates to the art stars while berating himself for lacking their talent and discipline. Yet his antennae are always alert. Despite terrifying mood swings, he is a keen observer of human nature which he documents with drawings and words.
Life's travails bedevil Carlton. He attempts suicide, has a failed marriage, becomes addicted to crack cocaine, and discovers he contains a female self he calls Carlotta "because she's a whole lotta Carl." He struggles to sit in silent meditation, but ends up at a mental hospital, where a gifted psychiatrist proves to him that he is suffering from Bipolar I disorder and helps him initiate sobriety and recovery.
Self-portraits grace every chapter of An Artist's Life , covering 50 years. At first glance, there appear to be a dozen sitters rather than one, but this shows the essence of Carl's harrowing unrest. An Artist's Life pleases the eye and ear, whether perused at random or read cover to cover. The book reflects a joyous collaboration between Davis and co-author Peter Lownds, who bring this moving story that combines art history, reminiscence, and the pleasure of success.
Life's travails bedevil Carlton. He attempts suicide, has a failed marriage, becomes addicted to crack cocaine, and discovers he contains a female self he calls Carlotta "because she's a whole lotta Carl." He struggles to sit in silent meditation, but ends up at a mental hospital, where a gifted psychiatrist proves to him that he is suffering from Bipolar I disorder and helps him initiate sobriety and recovery.
Self-portraits grace every chapter of An Artist's Life , covering 50 years. At first glance, there appear to be a dozen sitters rather than one, but this shows the essence of Carl's harrowing unrest. An Artist's Life pleases the eye and ear, whether perused at random or read cover to cover. The book reflects a joyous collaboration between Davis and co-author Peter Lownds, who bring this moving story that combines art history, reminiscence, and the pleasure of success.
122 pages, Paperback
Published December 10, 2024
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Displaying 1 - 26 of 26 reviews
September 17, 2025
By Jordan W.
Many know artists live life on the cutting edge, but few understand what that existence can do to a person. An Artist’s Life by Carlton Davis introduces readers to what it means to be an artist in our world today, and how that life can lead to danger, excitement, and deep despair. At the end of the day, though, we learn through Davis’ eyes that living as an artist can open so many doors one might not have thought possible.
The book starts in the year 1970 and ends in 2024. We follow Davis through his life as he recounts his days as a professor of architecture, a husband and father, and a struggling artist with intense emotional distress. In his early years, Davis spends much of his life hoping to begin his journey as an artist, but finds himself stuck teaching and practicing architecture with his first wife, Johanna, in Wyoming. As his dissatisfaction with his profession grows, life with Johanna also becomes more tumultuous. Ultimately, soon after the birth of their daughter, Davis leaves Wyoming for California, where he truly begins his life as a starving artist.
Throughout the book, Davis weaves his own life with snippets of art history. We learn more about Davis through his passion for Warhol, van Gogh, Rembrandt, Picasso, Goya, Kahlo, and more—particularly through their self-portraits, which is the main focus of Davis’s own work. Along the way, Davis delves into his mental health struggles and how he relates to his predecessors through their respective struggles. We hear about Davis’s alter ego—a saucy woman named Carlotta—and how her presence in his life leads to both profound realizations about his personhood and deeply dangerous behavior.
Ultimately, the reader gets to experience the full spectrum of Davis’ life as he has lived it; we see some of his highest highs and his lowest lows. I found myself captivated by Davis’s fortitude and momentum as he pulled himself from the cliff’s edge time and time again. By the end, I felt really connected to Davis and his struggles. I believe anyone who enjoys memoir-esque reads will enjoy this book. Be aware: There are multiple mentions of drug use, sexual situations, abuse, and things of that nature throughout the book. However, if you are looking for a read that will teach you about what it means to be an artist in our society, you won’t be disappointed.
--------------------
By Paul K.
A recent book by Kim Woods, All About Process (2017), delves into the work of artists such as Cézanne and Matisse, and includes cogent observations from the minds of art theorists like Henri Focillon. I think Carlton Davis, artist and author of this very frank and personal memoir of art and individual growth, would have loved this work. But An Artist’s Life: 50 Years of Self-Portraits is something altogether different, as Davis attempts to create a piece of literary reflection infinitely more personal than a typical piece of cultural criticism. Along with writer Peter Lownds, he delivers an entertaining and sometimes harrowing picture of anguish and evolution, giving us his own idiosyncratic version of Rimbaud’s Season in Hell, with a slightly happier ending.
The author, a Yale graduate who later became a fixture of the LA Warehouse scene in the 1980s, certainly understands the complex role art plays in culture, politics, and history. The book has that in spades, and Davis is appreciative of the great creative artists who function as his muses, especially Rembrandt. The old master sometimes tiptoes gently, and sometimes rampages through the tulips in Davis’s mind, informing his inner struggle, as he works with words and images to make sense of the artist’s path, and to understand why it’s worth living in the face of challenges to his sanity. Carlton’s battles, including a lifetime of substance abuse and bipolar disorder, form the canvas upon which he paints his narrative. The artist attempts to tame his demons and make sense of the world and himself, especially through the process of looking at the portrait work of other artists, all in order to help him understand his own creation, his self, and his relationship with Carlotta, his other half.
Carlton is an architect, but the work highlighted in this tome focuses primarily on his sketches with colored pencil, charcoal, graphite, and pastels. Influenced by pop art, he was also a big fan of traditional landscape art and portraits, remarking on how he sometimes felt out of place in the world of postmodern portraiture, defined by the English stalwarts Francis Bacon and Lucien Freud. But Carlton is true to his voice throughout, and while he colors outside the lines more often in his architecture – he did a stint with Frank Gehry in Los Angeles – it’s the tender, frenetic, and emotive portraits he pours his heart into which best convey the process. I found it interesting when he commented on Goya, and also on Courbet’s Le Désespéré (The Desperate Man or Desperation), drawing parallels to his own struggle. But his finished works are assuredly and uniquely his own.
Davis had a wild life, I won’t lie. There were multiple stints in rehab, and if he was out dressed like Carlotta and looking for trouble – watch out. He was a big guy and capable of raising some real hell. It’s no surprise that there are arrests, visits to the Betty Ford Center, and, of course, a whole lot of health issues, from crack cocaine abuse, especially.
My favorite part of the book is when he describes his time in Los Angeles, in the underground industrial art and music scene that popped up around Al’s Bar, near Skid Row in downtown Los Angeles, in the early 1980s. I spent half of my twenties there, and we probably crossed paths. This was a time when you could buy warehouse space for 20 cents per square foot, and Davis captures the creativity and frenetic energy of that scene quite well.
There’s more going on in this untamed autobiography than a short review can adequately capture. I live in this world, and I found it very relatable and authentic. I would suggest this book to anyone who’s struggled as an artist, whether you’ve overcome those struggles or not, for that’s the author’s message. As Goethe remarks in Werther, it is always about the chase, never the conquest. Davis does a good job of reminding us of this in his no-holds-barred look at the complexities of a life devoted to art.
Many know artists live life on the cutting edge, but few understand what that existence can do to a person. An Artist’s Life by Carlton Davis introduces readers to what it means to be an artist in our world today, and how that life can lead to danger, excitement, and deep despair. At the end of the day, though, we learn through Davis’ eyes that living as an artist can open so many doors one might not have thought possible.
The book starts in the year 1970 and ends in 2024. We follow Davis through his life as he recounts his days as a professor of architecture, a husband and father, and a struggling artist with intense emotional distress. In his early years, Davis spends much of his life hoping to begin his journey as an artist, but finds himself stuck teaching and practicing architecture with his first wife, Johanna, in Wyoming. As his dissatisfaction with his profession grows, life with Johanna also becomes more tumultuous. Ultimately, soon after the birth of their daughter, Davis leaves Wyoming for California, where he truly begins his life as a starving artist.
Throughout the book, Davis weaves his own life with snippets of art history. We learn more about Davis through his passion for Warhol, van Gogh, Rembrandt, Picasso, Goya, Kahlo, and more—particularly through their self-portraits, which is the main focus of Davis’s own work. Along the way, Davis delves into his mental health struggles and how he relates to his predecessors through their respective struggles. We hear about Davis’s alter ego—a saucy woman named Carlotta—and how her presence in his life leads to both profound realizations about his personhood and deeply dangerous behavior.
Ultimately, the reader gets to experience the full spectrum of Davis’ life as he has lived it; we see some of his highest highs and his lowest lows. I found myself captivated by Davis’s fortitude and momentum as he pulled himself from the cliff’s edge time and time again. By the end, I felt really connected to Davis and his struggles. I believe anyone who enjoys memoir-esque reads will enjoy this book. Be aware: There are multiple mentions of drug use, sexual situations, abuse, and things of that nature throughout the book. However, if you are looking for a read that will teach you about what it means to be an artist in our society, you won’t be disappointed.
--------------------
By Paul K.
A recent book by Kim Woods, All About Process (2017), delves into the work of artists such as Cézanne and Matisse, and includes cogent observations from the minds of art theorists like Henri Focillon. I think Carlton Davis, artist and author of this very frank and personal memoir of art and individual growth, would have loved this work. But An Artist’s Life: 50 Years of Self-Portraits is something altogether different, as Davis attempts to create a piece of literary reflection infinitely more personal than a typical piece of cultural criticism. Along with writer Peter Lownds, he delivers an entertaining and sometimes harrowing picture of anguish and evolution, giving us his own idiosyncratic version of Rimbaud’s Season in Hell, with a slightly happier ending.
The author, a Yale graduate who later became a fixture of the LA Warehouse scene in the 1980s, certainly understands the complex role art plays in culture, politics, and history. The book has that in spades, and Davis is appreciative of the great creative artists who function as his muses, especially Rembrandt. The old master sometimes tiptoes gently, and sometimes rampages through the tulips in Davis’s mind, informing his inner struggle, as he works with words and images to make sense of the artist’s path, and to understand why it’s worth living in the face of challenges to his sanity. Carlton’s battles, including a lifetime of substance abuse and bipolar disorder, form the canvas upon which he paints his narrative. The artist attempts to tame his demons and make sense of the world and himself, especially through the process of looking at the portrait work of other artists, all in order to help him understand his own creation, his self, and his relationship with Carlotta, his other half.
Carlton is an architect, but the work highlighted in this tome focuses primarily on his sketches with colored pencil, charcoal, graphite, and pastels. Influenced by pop art, he was also a big fan of traditional landscape art and portraits, remarking on how he sometimes felt out of place in the world of postmodern portraiture, defined by the English stalwarts Francis Bacon and Lucien Freud. But Carlton is true to his voice throughout, and while he colors outside the lines more often in his architecture – he did a stint with Frank Gehry in Los Angeles – it’s the tender, frenetic, and emotive portraits he pours his heart into which best convey the process. I found it interesting when he commented on Goya, and also on Courbet’s Le Désespéré (The Desperate Man or Desperation), drawing parallels to his own struggle. But his finished works are assuredly and uniquely his own.
Davis had a wild life, I won’t lie. There were multiple stints in rehab, and if he was out dressed like Carlotta and looking for trouble – watch out. He was a big guy and capable of raising some real hell. It’s no surprise that there are arrests, visits to the Betty Ford Center, and, of course, a whole lot of health issues, from crack cocaine abuse, especially.
My favorite part of the book is when he describes his time in Los Angeles, in the underground industrial art and music scene that popped up around Al’s Bar, near Skid Row in downtown Los Angeles, in the early 1980s. I spent half of my twenties there, and we probably crossed paths. This was a time when you could buy warehouse space for 20 cents per square foot, and Davis captures the creativity and frenetic energy of that scene quite well.
There’s more going on in this untamed autobiography than a short review can adequately capture. I live in this world, and I found it very relatable and authentic. I would suggest this book to anyone who’s struggled as an artist, whether you’ve overcome those struggles or not, for that’s the author’s message. As Goethe remarks in Werther, it is always about the chase, never the conquest. Davis does a good job of reminding us of this in his no-holds-barred look at the complexities of a life devoted to art.
December 26, 2025
This memoir is not an easy or conventional read, but that difficulty is part of its purpose. What begins as a relatively straightforward life narrative gradually transforms into something closer to an artwork in book form. The writing, the images, and even the formatting on the page function together as a self-portrait, mirroring the author’s evolving inner life across decades, as the title suggests.
The book opens in a linear way, much like the author’s earliest self-portraits. He presents himself as an architect, husband, father, and professor, yet finds himself caught between professional stability and a deep pull toward art. As his search expands across different cities, historical moments, and artistic traditions, the narration becomes increasingly unstable.
At times, I felt the author was an unreliable narrator, particularly when recalling childhood trauma. However, trauma is rarely remembered in a neat or linear way. It often appears fragmented, partial, and resistant to recall, which I found genuinely moving when I reflected on it more deeply. In this way, the memoir does more than tell a life story. It invites the reader to think about how memory works, how art and literature give shape to experience, and how life itself is understood through fragments rather than certainties.
This shift in style feels intentional. As the author explores addiction, mania, and a fragmented sense of identity, the text itself becomes symbolic of that turmoil. Sentences break apart, words run together, and paragraphs sometimes begin or end mid-thought. The experience can be disorienting, but it also feels honest. Rather than simply describing confusion, the book asks the reader to experience it.
One of the memoir’s greatest strengths is how deeply it weaves art history and historical events into the narrative. The author situates his own work within a long lineage of influential artists, using these references to better understand his practice and identity. At the same time, he places his personal experiences alongside major social and cultural events, allowing the external world and the internal world to inform one another. This grounding prevents the book from becoming purely introspective and gives the narrative additional depth.
The memoir moves through multiple artistic modes, including impressionism, expressionism, surrealism, abstraction, modernism, post-modernism, and deconstructive approaches. These shifts are echoed in both the visual self-portraits and the prose itself. At times the writing is spare and observational, at other times aggressive, fragmented, or stripped back to essentials. The form consistently reflects the themes being explored.
What ultimately makes this book so compelling is that it is less concerned with professional success than with the compulsion to create, and the slow recognition that this compulsion has value in its own right. The book became a puzzle I wanted to solve, encouraging reflection, close reading, and even further exploration beyond its pages.
That said, this is not a book for everyone. Readers looking for a straightforward, linear memoir may find the structure challenging, and the unconventional formatting may require patience. However, for readers interested in art, psychology, and experimental life writing, this memoir offers a rare and deeply thoughtful exploration of identity and creativity. For me, the challenge of the book was also its greatest strength, which is why it earns a full five-star rating.
The book opens in a linear way, much like the author’s earliest self-portraits. He presents himself as an architect, husband, father, and professor, yet finds himself caught between professional stability and a deep pull toward art. As his search expands across different cities, historical moments, and artistic traditions, the narration becomes increasingly unstable.
At times, I felt the author was an unreliable narrator, particularly when recalling childhood trauma. However, trauma is rarely remembered in a neat or linear way. It often appears fragmented, partial, and resistant to recall, which I found genuinely moving when I reflected on it more deeply. In this way, the memoir does more than tell a life story. It invites the reader to think about how memory works, how art and literature give shape to experience, and how life itself is understood through fragments rather than certainties.
This shift in style feels intentional. As the author explores addiction, mania, and a fragmented sense of identity, the text itself becomes symbolic of that turmoil. Sentences break apart, words run together, and paragraphs sometimes begin or end mid-thought. The experience can be disorienting, but it also feels honest. Rather than simply describing confusion, the book asks the reader to experience it.
One of the memoir’s greatest strengths is how deeply it weaves art history and historical events into the narrative. The author situates his own work within a long lineage of influential artists, using these references to better understand his practice and identity. At the same time, he places his personal experiences alongside major social and cultural events, allowing the external world and the internal world to inform one another. This grounding prevents the book from becoming purely introspective and gives the narrative additional depth.
The memoir moves through multiple artistic modes, including impressionism, expressionism, surrealism, abstraction, modernism, post-modernism, and deconstructive approaches. These shifts are echoed in both the visual self-portraits and the prose itself. At times the writing is spare and observational, at other times aggressive, fragmented, or stripped back to essentials. The form consistently reflects the themes being explored.
What ultimately makes this book so compelling is that it is less concerned with professional success than with the compulsion to create, and the slow recognition that this compulsion has value in its own right. The book became a puzzle I wanted to solve, encouraging reflection, close reading, and even further exploration beyond its pages.
That said, this is not a book for everyone. Readers looking for a straightforward, linear memoir may find the structure challenging, and the unconventional formatting may require patience. However, for readers interested in art, psychology, and experimental life writing, this memoir offers a rare and deeply thoughtful exploration of identity and creativity. For me, the challenge of the book was also its greatest strength, which is why it earns a full five-star rating.
November 10, 2025
As a writer, I often find myself wrestling with the same questions Carlton Davis asks throughout An Artist’s Life: 50 Years of Self-Portraits: Who am I creating for? What am I trying to say? And why do I keep coming back to it, even when no one’s watching? His reflections on painting felt like echoes of my own experiences with words the solitude, the doubt, the quiet satisfaction of finally seeing something true take shape.
From the first pages, I could tell Davis isn’t interested in glamour or self-promotion. He’s after something far more meaningful authenticity. He talks about how each self-portrait became a form of dialogue with himself, a chance to see what had changed and what remained. That kind of self-awareness is rare, and it gives the whole book a depth that’s hard to put into words.
What I love most is how he doesn’t shy away from uncertainty. There’s a humility in his tone that feels refreshing. He admits to confusion, to fear, to feeling lost and yet, he always circles back to creation as a form of grounding. That resonated deeply with me. I think anyone who’s ever pursued a creative calling will recognize that rhythm of losing and finding yourself again.
His architectural background adds an unexpected layer to his insights. When he describes the process of constructing a painting, it reads almost like building a narrative patient, structural, intuitive. You can sense how both disciplines feed his understanding of balance and perspective. It made me see my own writing differently, more spatially somehow.
The book’s pacing is deliberate and reflective. It doesn’t rush; it invites you to sit with each idea, like lingering in a quiet studio surrounded by the smell of turpentine and paint. I found myself highlighting whole passages, especially his thoughts on how time doesn’t steal creativity it refines it. That line alone stayed with me for days.
By the end, I felt like Davis had handed me a kind of creative permission slip to evolve, to pause, to not always know the answer. It’s rare to find a memoir that speaks so honestly to the private side of art-making. This one does, and I’ll be recommending it to every writer and artist friend I know.
From the first pages, I could tell Davis isn’t interested in glamour or self-promotion. He’s after something far more meaningful authenticity. He talks about how each self-portrait became a form of dialogue with himself, a chance to see what had changed and what remained. That kind of self-awareness is rare, and it gives the whole book a depth that’s hard to put into words.
What I love most is how he doesn’t shy away from uncertainty. There’s a humility in his tone that feels refreshing. He admits to confusion, to fear, to feeling lost and yet, he always circles back to creation as a form of grounding. That resonated deeply with me. I think anyone who’s ever pursued a creative calling will recognize that rhythm of losing and finding yourself again.
His architectural background adds an unexpected layer to his insights. When he describes the process of constructing a painting, it reads almost like building a narrative patient, structural, intuitive. You can sense how both disciplines feed his understanding of balance and perspective. It made me see my own writing differently, more spatially somehow.
The book’s pacing is deliberate and reflective. It doesn’t rush; it invites you to sit with each idea, like lingering in a quiet studio surrounded by the smell of turpentine and paint. I found myself highlighting whole passages, especially his thoughts on how time doesn’t steal creativity it refines it. That line alone stayed with me for days.
By the end, I felt like Davis had handed me a kind of creative permission slip to evolve, to pause, to not always know the answer. It’s rare to find a memoir that speaks so honestly to the private side of art-making. This one does, and I’ll be recommending it to every writer and artist friend I know.
December 8, 2025
What I loved most about An Artist’s Life is how naturally Carlton Davis blends storytelling with reflection. It never feels forced or overly polished. Instead, it feels lived-in like a journal woven across decades, full of the kind of insights that only come from actually doing the work year after year. I found myself becoming completely absorbed in the simplicity and honesty of his voice.
The way he describes self-portraiture fascinated me. He doesn’t treat the portraits as finished accomplishments, but as markers on a timeline each one a snapshot of who he was emotionally, mentally, and spiritually at that moment. That perspective changed how I think about personal growth. Instead of expecting myself to remain the same, the book reminded me that change is not only natural but essential.
I also appreciated how he writes about doubt. Most memoirs gloss over uncertainty, but Davis embraces it. He talks about the quiet, vulnerable moments where he questioned his identity, his craft, and the purpose of his work. Those were the moments that resonated the most, because they felt so real. They made the rest of his journey feel even more meaningful.
His reflections on time were beautiful. He treats it not as a limitation but as a collaborator something that shapes his art and deepens his understanding. That shift in perspective gave me a kind of calm I didn’t expect. It made me rethink my own relationship with the things I create and how they’ve changed as I’ve grown.
The writing itself is effortless. There were passages I reread simply because of how beautifully they were phrased. Davis has an eye for the small details a flicker of light, an old memory, a shift in mood and he captures them with such clarity that you can almost see the scene unfolding.
By the final pages, I felt inspired and strangely renewed. This book reminded me that creativity isn’t something you “finish.” It’s something you return to again and again, each time with a slightly different version of yourself. Davis’s journey is a powerful reminder that there is beauty in that ongoing evolution.
The way he describes self-portraiture fascinated me. He doesn’t treat the portraits as finished accomplishments, but as markers on a timeline each one a snapshot of who he was emotionally, mentally, and spiritually at that moment. That perspective changed how I think about personal growth. Instead of expecting myself to remain the same, the book reminded me that change is not only natural but essential.
I also appreciated how he writes about doubt. Most memoirs gloss over uncertainty, but Davis embraces it. He talks about the quiet, vulnerable moments where he questioned his identity, his craft, and the purpose of his work. Those were the moments that resonated the most, because they felt so real. They made the rest of his journey feel even more meaningful.
His reflections on time were beautiful. He treats it not as a limitation but as a collaborator something that shapes his art and deepens his understanding. That shift in perspective gave me a kind of calm I didn’t expect. It made me rethink my own relationship with the things I create and how they’ve changed as I’ve grown.
The writing itself is effortless. There were passages I reread simply because of how beautifully they were phrased. Davis has an eye for the small details a flicker of light, an old memory, a shift in mood and he captures them with such clarity that you can almost see the scene unfolding.
By the final pages, I felt inspired and strangely renewed. This book reminded me that creativity isn’t something you “finish.” It’s something you return to again and again, each time with a slightly different version of yourself. Davis’s journey is a powerful reminder that there is beauty in that ongoing evolution.
November 10, 2025
As someone in my seventies, I’ve read plenty of memoirs, but An Artist’s Life touched me in a way few others have. There’s something deeply comforting about hearing from someone who’s spent fifty years walking a creative path and still speaks with humility and curiosity. Carlton Davis doesn’t write like a man who’s “finished” his journey he writes like someone who’s still learning, still searching. I loved that about him.
The way he reflects on his self-portraits is both tender and wise. He looks back not to boast, but to understand. You can sense how his art evolved alongside his understanding of himself and how every line, every brushstroke, carries a story of love, loss, and rediscovery. It’s rare to find that kind of honesty in memoirs today.
What I related to most were his thoughts on aging. He doesn’t view getting older as decline but as refinement a chance to see more clearly what matters. His writing reminded me that life is still full of possibilities, even after decades of work. I found myself smiling at how he describes old pieces with a mix of fondness and mild embarrassment we’ve all been there, looking back and realizing how far we’ve come.
His architectural background adds an unexpected richness to the book. When he talks about “building” an image or a life, you can hear the designer’s precision in his metaphors. Yet he balances that with warmth and soul. It’s rare to find someone who can think so structurally and feel so deeply at the same time.
The pacing is gentle but steady. It’s a book that asks you to slow down to savor it, to let the reflections sink in. I found myself reading a few pages each morning like a quiet ritual, letting his words remind me to stay curious and creative no matter what stage of life I’m in.
When I closed the book, I felt grateful grateful for his honesty, for his endurance, and for the reminder that art, in all its forms, is really a record of our becoming. This is one of those rare reads that stays with you, not for its drama, but for its truth.
The way he reflects on his self-portraits is both tender and wise. He looks back not to boast, but to understand. You can sense how his art evolved alongside his understanding of himself and how every line, every brushstroke, carries a story of love, loss, and rediscovery. It’s rare to find that kind of honesty in memoirs today.
What I related to most were his thoughts on aging. He doesn’t view getting older as decline but as refinement a chance to see more clearly what matters. His writing reminded me that life is still full of possibilities, even after decades of work. I found myself smiling at how he describes old pieces with a mix of fondness and mild embarrassment we’ve all been there, looking back and realizing how far we’ve come.
His architectural background adds an unexpected richness to the book. When he talks about “building” an image or a life, you can hear the designer’s precision in his metaphors. Yet he balances that with warmth and soul. It’s rare to find someone who can think so structurally and feel so deeply at the same time.
The pacing is gentle but steady. It’s a book that asks you to slow down to savor it, to let the reflections sink in. I found myself reading a few pages each morning like a quiet ritual, letting his words remind me to stay curious and creative no matter what stage of life I’m in.
When I closed the book, I felt grateful grateful for his honesty, for his endurance, and for the reminder that art, in all its forms, is really a record of our becoming. This is one of those rare reads that stays with you, not for its drama, but for its truth.
November 10, 2025
I picked up An Artist’s Life: 50 Years of Self-Portraits out of pure curiosity. I don’t paint or draw, and honestly, I worried the book might go over my head. But by the time I finished, I realized it wasn’t really about art in the technical sense it’s about being human, about change, and about finding meaning in the things we build over time. Carlton Davis might be an artist, but his reflections speak to anyone who’s lived a full, complicated life.
From the very beginning, there’s something disarming about his voice. It’s not the distant tone of a seasoned professional talking down to you; it’s like listening to a friend tell you about the moments that shaped him. He’s honest about the messy parts the doubt, the aging, the creative blocks and that honesty made me trust him right away.
One thing that stood out to me was how Davis describes the act of self-portraiture. It’s not vanity or ego; it’s an attempt to understand himself across time. That concept hit me harder than I expected. It made me wonder what my own “self-portraits” would look like if I could capture all the phases of my life not in paint, but in memory, or writing, or just how I see myself.
There’s a peaceful rhythm to his writing. It’s steady, deliberate, and thoughtful. Even when he talks about mistakes or regrets, he does it with so much grace that it feels comforting instead of sad. I could feel the weight of his years, but also the lightness that comes from acceptance.
I think what I loved most is how this book makes space for reflection. It’s not a quick or flashy read. You don’t rush through it; you linger. I found myself pausing after nearly every chapter just to sit with what he said. It’s one of those rare books that quietly invites you to look inward without ever feeling heavy-handed.
By the end, I realized this wasn’t just an artist’s memoir it was a meditation on life itself. Davis reminded me that creativity isn’t limited to the arts. Living with awareness, with care, with curiosity that’s art, too. And that’s something anyone can relate to.
From the very beginning, there’s something disarming about his voice. It’s not the distant tone of a seasoned professional talking down to you; it’s like listening to a friend tell you about the moments that shaped him. He’s honest about the messy parts the doubt, the aging, the creative blocks and that honesty made me trust him right away.
One thing that stood out to me was how Davis describes the act of self-portraiture. It’s not vanity or ego; it’s an attempt to understand himself across time. That concept hit me harder than I expected. It made me wonder what my own “self-portraits” would look like if I could capture all the phases of my life not in paint, but in memory, or writing, or just how I see myself.
There’s a peaceful rhythm to his writing. It’s steady, deliberate, and thoughtful. Even when he talks about mistakes or regrets, he does it with so much grace that it feels comforting instead of sad. I could feel the weight of his years, but also the lightness that comes from acceptance.
I think what I loved most is how this book makes space for reflection. It’s not a quick or flashy read. You don’t rush through it; you linger. I found myself pausing after nearly every chapter just to sit with what he said. It’s one of those rare books that quietly invites you to look inward without ever feeling heavy-handed.
By the end, I realized this wasn’t just an artist’s memoir it was a meditation on life itself. Davis reminded me that creativity isn’t limited to the arts. Living with awareness, with care, with curiosity that’s art, too. And that’s something anyone can relate to.
November 10, 2025
As an art instructor, I’m always looking for books that help my students see beyond technique and think about why we create. An Artist’s Life: 50 Years of Self-Portraits is now one of those books I’ll be recommending for years. Carlton Davis manages to blend artistic reflection, life lessons, and emotional honesty in a way that feels deeply authentic and wise.
What I admire most is that Davis never separates craft from meaning. He treats every self-portrait as a dialogue a conversation between who he was and who he’s becoming. That approach mirrors what I try to teach: that every piece of art is a record of the artist’s evolving perception. Seeing that idea lived out across fifty years is both inspiring and humbling.
I was also struck by how readable and relatable the writing is. Davis doesn’t hide behind academic language or artistic theory. He speaks plainly, with humor and heart, making even his most philosophical thoughts accessible. It’s refreshing to read a memoir about art that doesn’t feel like homework it feels like a letter from someone who’s been where you are and genuinely wants to share what he’s learned.
There’s a lot my students could take from this book, especially around patience and longevity. We live in an age of instant gratification, where young artists feel pressure to “make it” fast. Davis’s slow, deliberate journey reminds us that art isn’t a race it’s a relationship that deepens over time. That lesson alone is worth the read.
On a personal level, I found the book incredibly moving. His reflections on aging, loss, and rediscovering joy in his work resonated deeply. It reminded me why I fell in love with teaching to witness others grow and rediscover themselves through the act of creation. Davis models that lifelong curiosity beautifully.
In short, this is a book I’ll be keeping close. It’s as instructive as it is emotional, and I can see it becoming a quiet classic for anyone serious about understanding not just art, but the artist’s soul. It’s one of those rare reads that makes you proud to be part of the creative world.
What I admire most is that Davis never separates craft from meaning. He treats every self-portrait as a dialogue a conversation between who he was and who he’s becoming. That approach mirrors what I try to teach: that every piece of art is a record of the artist’s evolving perception. Seeing that idea lived out across fifty years is both inspiring and humbling.
I was also struck by how readable and relatable the writing is. Davis doesn’t hide behind academic language or artistic theory. He speaks plainly, with humor and heart, making even his most philosophical thoughts accessible. It’s refreshing to read a memoir about art that doesn’t feel like homework it feels like a letter from someone who’s been where you are and genuinely wants to share what he’s learned.
There’s a lot my students could take from this book, especially around patience and longevity. We live in an age of instant gratification, where young artists feel pressure to “make it” fast. Davis’s slow, deliberate journey reminds us that art isn’t a race it’s a relationship that deepens over time. That lesson alone is worth the read.
On a personal level, I found the book incredibly moving. His reflections on aging, loss, and rediscovering joy in his work resonated deeply. It reminded me why I fell in love with teaching to witness others grow and rediscover themselves through the act of creation. Davis models that lifelong curiosity beautifully.
In short, this is a book I’ll be keeping close. It’s as instructive as it is emotional, and I can see it becoming a quiet classic for anyone serious about understanding not just art, but the artist’s soul. It’s one of those rare reads that makes you proud to be part of the creative world.
November 7, 2025
When I started An Artist’s Life: 50 Years of Self-Portraits, I didn’t expect it to feel so personal. I thought it would be a typical art memoir filled with creative jargon, but Carlton Davis completely surprised me. His storytelling is honest, self-aware, and deeply human. Every page made me feel like I was sitting across from him as he reflected on his life’s work not just as an artist, but as a man who kept asking himself why he creates at all.
What struck me most was how he connects his architectural background to his art. He doesn’t treat them as separate disciplines but as two ways of understanding structure one physical, one emotional. That perspective opened my eyes to how creativity can bridge seemingly opposite worlds.
I also loved how the book isn’t just about painting or technique. It’s about becoming. Davis writes openly about doubt, failure, reinvention, and the restless need to keep exploring. You can feel that fifty-year timeline in every reflection, but it never reads like nostalgia more like gratitude.
His self-portraits become metaphors for life itself. They’re not vanity projects; they’re self-studies, attempts to see who he’s been and who he’s becoming. The way he describes revisiting old works, sometimes with surprise or discomfort, feels incredibly real. It reminded me how important it is to look back with both kindness and curiosity.
This isn’t a fast read, but it’s one that lingers. I found myself pausing often, thinking about how my own passions have evolved over time. It’s a book that meets you where you are artist or not and reminds you that identity isn’t fixed; it’s a moving, living thing.
By the end, I felt like I knew Davis not in a superficial “author and reader” way, but in the sense that I’d witnessed his soul unfold through art. It’s a stunning, quietly powerful memoir that celebrates endurance, reflection, and the courage to keep showing up for your own story.
What struck me most was how he connects his architectural background to his art. He doesn’t treat them as separate disciplines but as two ways of understanding structure one physical, one emotional. That perspective opened my eyes to how creativity can bridge seemingly opposite worlds.
I also loved how the book isn’t just about painting or technique. It’s about becoming. Davis writes openly about doubt, failure, reinvention, and the restless need to keep exploring. You can feel that fifty-year timeline in every reflection, but it never reads like nostalgia more like gratitude.
His self-portraits become metaphors for life itself. They’re not vanity projects; they’re self-studies, attempts to see who he’s been and who he’s becoming. The way he describes revisiting old works, sometimes with surprise or discomfort, feels incredibly real. It reminded me how important it is to look back with both kindness and curiosity.
This isn’t a fast read, but it’s one that lingers. I found myself pausing often, thinking about how my own passions have evolved over time. It’s a book that meets you where you are artist or not and reminds you that identity isn’t fixed; it’s a moving, living thing.
By the end, I felt like I knew Davis not in a superficial “author and reader” way, but in the sense that I’d witnessed his soul unfold through art. It’s a stunning, quietly powerful memoir that celebrates endurance, reflection, and the courage to keep showing up for your own story.
November 10, 2025
I’m in my late twenties, still figuring out what kind of artist I want to be, and reading An Artist’s Life: 50 Years of Self-Portraits honestly shook me in the best way. Carlton Davis writes with the kind of calm wisdom that only comes from a life spent doing the work not talking about it, but living it. It made me realize how much of art isn’t about talent or recognition, but endurance.
What drew me in first was his tone. It’s not preachy or distant; it feels like a mentor quietly sharing what he’s learned after decades of showing up to the canvas. He doesn’t sugarcoat his failures or moments of doubt. Instead, he makes them feel like a natural part of the creative process almost like brushstrokes that only make the full picture clearer.
I especially loved how he describes self-portraiture as an act of truth-telling. For him, it’s not about likeness; it’s about documenting emotion, mood, and growth. That made me rethink how I approach my own art. I’ve always been scared to show myself in my work, but Davis reminds me that honesty is what gives art its power.
The sections about time hit me hard. I think younger artists often fear they’re running out of it, but Davis flips that idea completely. His reflections on age, persistence, and the way creativity deepens with experience gave me a new sense of peace. He shows that it’s okay to evolve, to slow down, and to let your art grow with you.
His prose feels like slow music measured, graceful, and full of meaning between the lines. There’s not a single page that feels empty or forced. Every paragraph feels like a quiet lesson, not in technique, but in patience and faith.
By the end, I felt both inspired and grounded. This book didn’t just make me want to paint more; it made me want to live more attentively. I can see myself returning to it over the years, finding new meanings as I change just like Davis did with his own portraits.
What drew me in first was his tone. It’s not preachy or distant; it feels like a mentor quietly sharing what he’s learned after decades of showing up to the canvas. He doesn’t sugarcoat his failures or moments of doubt. Instead, he makes them feel like a natural part of the creative process almost like brushstrokes that only make the full picture clearer.
I especially loved how he describes self-portraiture as an act of truth-telling. For him, it’s not about likeness; it’s about documenting emotion, mood, and growth. That made me rethink how I approach my own art. I’ve always been scared to show myself in my work, but Davis reminds me that honesty is what gives art its power.
The sections about time hit me hard. I think younger artists often fear they’re running out of it, but Davis flips that idea completely. His reflections on age, persistence, and the way creativity deepens with experience gave me a new sense of peace. He shows that it’s okay to evolve, to slow down, and to let your art grow with you.
His prose feels like slow music measured, graceful, and full of meaning between the lines. There’s not a single page that feels empty or forced. Every paragraph feels like a quiet lesson, not in technique, but in patience and faith.
By the end, I felt both inspired and grounded. This book didn’t just make me want to paint more; it made me want to live more attentively. I can see myself returning to it over the years, finding new meanings as I change just like Davis did with his own portraits.
November 10, 2025
I put down my paintbrush nearly thirty years ago, after life got busy and art took a backseat. But reading An Artist’s Life: 50 Years of Self-Portraits stirred something in me I hadn’t felt in decades. Carlton Davis writes with such sincerity that you can’t help but feel the pull of creation again. His journey reminded me that art never truly leaves you it just waits for you to return.
What moved me first was how gently he talks about time. There’s no bitterness, no sense of regret. Instead, he treats every phase of his life every portrait, every creative block as part of a larger mosaic. That kind of acceptance gave me so much comfort. It reminded me that it’s never too late to start again, no matter how long it’s been.
His reflections on self-portraiture are fascinating, even for someone who hasn’t painted in years. He uses his own image not out of ego, but as a way to stay honest. It’s like he’s checking in with his soul every few years, asking, “Who are you now?” That idea stuck with me that art can be a kind of emotional record, not just a visual one.
I also appreciated the warmth of his prose. It’s thoughtful without ever feeling heavy. You can sense the peace he’s made with himself and with his work. The way he describes revisiting old art pieces feels like catching up with an old friend familiar, but with new things to learn.
Reading this book made me want to pick up my brushes again. Not to paint something perfect, but to reconnect with that quiet, curious part of myself that used to find joy in color and form. Davis doesn’t tell you to chase greatness; he simply shows you how to keep going how to make art a companion for life.
By the time I turned the last page, I felt both grateful and inspired. This book gave me back something I thought I’d lost: the urge to create, not for recognition, but for the sheer act of being present. It’s one of the most life-affirming reads I’ve come across in years.
What moved me first was how gently he talks about time. There’s no bitterness, no sense of regret. Instead, he treats every phase of his life every portrait, every creative block as part of a larger mosaic. That kind of acceptance gave me so much comfort. It reminded me that it’s never too late to start again, no matter how long it’s been.
His reflections on self-portraiture are fascinating, even for someone who hasn’t painted in years. He uses his own image not out of ego, but as a way to stay honest. It’s like he’s checking in with his soul every few years, asking, “Who are you now?” That idea stuck with me that art can be a kind of emotional record, not just a visual one.
I also appreciated the warmth of his prose. It’s thoughtful without ever feeling heavy. You can sense the peace he’s made with himself and with his work. The way he describes revisiting old art pieces feels like catching up with an old friend familiar, but with new things to learn.
Reading this book made me want to pick up my brushes again. Not to paint something perfect, but to reconnect with that quiet, curious part of myself that used to find joy in color and form. Davis doesn’t tell you to chase greatness; he simply shows you how to keep going how to make art a companion for life.
By the time I turned the last page, I felt both grateful and inspired. This book gave me back something I thought I’d lost: the urge to create, not for recognition, but for the sheer act of being present. It’s one of the most life-affirming reads I’ve come across in years.
December 8, 2025
When I finished An Artist’s Life: 50 Years of Self-Portraits, I didn’t close the book right away. I just sat there for a few minutes letting everything settle. Carlton Davis has a way of writing that doesn’t overwhelm you it slowly fills you up. I wasn’t expecting something so grounded and intimate, and I definitely wasn’t prepared for how deeply it would make me think about my own life.
The first thing that stood out to me was how honest he is. He doesn’t hide behind fancy language or try to impress the reader. Instead, he opens the door to his experiences the good, the hard, the uncertain and you can feel the sincerity in every line. It felt almost like listening to someone recount their life over a long, thoughtful conversation.
I found his connection between architecture and art especially fascinating. He talks about shapes, structure, and balance not just in buildings or paintings, but in life itself. It’s a metaphor that threads through the whole book, and it gave the memoir this almost meditative quality. I kept going back to certain lines just to sit with them.
His reflections on aging were some of the most meaningful parts for me. He writes with a kind of grace that made me rethink the way I look at getting older. Instead of treating age as a loss, he treats it as an evolution another layer, another texture. That mindset made me feel strangely comforted, even hopeful.
The pacing is unhurried in the best possible way. Davis never rushes his thoughts. He lets each memory sit long enough for you to really see it. That slower rhythm created a sense of emotional clarity that I didn’t even realize I needed.
By the end, I felt like I had been given a gift a quiet lesson in paying attention to your own journey. This is the kind of book that doesn’t shout; it whispers truths that stay with you long after you’ve finished.
The first thing that stood out to me was how honest he is. He doesn’t hide behind fancy language or try to impress the reader. Instead, he opens the door to his experiences the good, the hard, the uncertain and you can feel the sincerity in every line. It felt almost like listening to someone recount their life over a long, thoughtful conversation.
I found his connection between architecture and art especially fascinating. He talks about shapes, structure, and balance not just in buildings or paintings, but in life itself. It’s a metaphor that threads through the whole book, and it gave the memoir this almost meditative quality. I kept going back to certain lines just to sit with them.
His reflections on aging were some of the most meaningful parts for me. He writes with a kind of grace that made me rethink the way I look at getting older. Instead of treating age as a loss, he treats it as an evolution another layer, another texture. That mindset made me feel strangely comforted, even hopeful.
The pacing is unhurried in the best possible way. Davis never rushes his thoughts. He lets each memory sit long enough for you to really see it. That slower rhythm created a sense of emotional clarity that I didn’t even realize I needed.
By the end, I felt like I had been given a gift a quiet lesson in paying attention to your own journey. This is the kind of book that doesn’t shout; it whispers truths that stay with you long after you’ve finished.
November 9, 2025
I’ve read many creative memoirs over the years, but few have touched me like Carlton Davis’s An Artist’s Life. What I appreciated most is how he captures the texture of a creative life the joy, the frustration, the self-doubt, and that strange mix of pride and insecurity that all artists carry. He doesn’t glamorize his journey; he dignifies it.
From the first few chapters, I felt like I was reading a diary written by someone who has lived deeply and reflected honestly. There’s a rhythm to his writing that feels almost like sketching deliberate yet intuitive. Every story and self-portrait becomes another stroke in the portrait of his life.
The reflections on time are especially beautiful. Davis revisits decades of work and talks about how his sense of self has shifted not dramatically, but gradually, like light changing across a canvas. I think anyone who’s ever chased a long-term calling will relate to that feeling of looking back and seeing your younger self with compassion and awe.
What I didn’t expect was how emotional this book would be. There’s a certain melancholy running through it the awareness of aging, of art as both witness and companion. But there’s also warmth and humor, especially when he talks about his early struggles and the moments that shaped him. It’s deeply human.
As someone who paints in her free time, I found this book incredibly affirming. It reminded me that art isn’t about fame or perfection it’s about paying attention, to yourself and the world, over and over again. Davis models that beautifully.
I closed the last page feeling inspired and oddly peaceful. This isn’t just a book about art; it’s about what it means to see yourself, your past, and your purpose clearly and without apology.
From the first few chapters, I felt like I was reading a diary written by someone who has lived deeply and reflected honestly. There’s a rhythm to his writing that feels almost like sketching deliberate yet intuitive. Every story and self-portrait becomes another stroke in the portrait of his life.
The reflections on time are especially beautiful. Davis revisits decades of work and talks about how his sense of self has shifted not dramatically, but gradually, like light changing across a canvas. I think anyone who’s ever chased a long-term calling will relate to that feeling of looking back and seeing your younger self with compassion and awe.
What I didn’t expect was how emotional this book would be. There’s a certain melancholy running through it the awareness of aging, of art as both witness and companion. But there’s also warmth and humor, especially when he talks about his early struggles and the moments that shaped him. It’s deeply human.
As someone who paints in her free time, I found this book incredibly affirming. It reminded me that art isn’t about fame or perfection it’s about paying attention, to yourself and the world, over and over again. Davis models that beautifully.
I closed the last page feeling inspired and oddly peaceful. This isn’t just a book about art; it’s about what it means to see yourself, your past, and your purpose clearly and without apology.
November 10, 2025
As someone who’s worked in the creative field for years, I know how easy it is to get lost in comparison and self-doubt. An Artist’s Life felt like a gentle reminder to return to the reason I started creating in the first place. Carlton Davis’s voice is warm, wise, and refreshingly unpretentious. He’s not performing for the reader he’s sharing.
What stood out to me most is how he doesn’t separate his life from his art. They’re woven together, inseparable. His reflections on architecture, painting, and the act of observation feel timeless. You can tell he’s spent years learning how to see not just with his eyes, but with patience and empathy.
There’s a tenderness in how he revisits his younger self. He doesn’t shy away from mistakes or insecurities. Instead, he explores them like an artist revisiting an old sketch, looking for what he missed the first time. That level of vulnerability makes the book feel intimate and sincere.
I also appreciated the pacing. Some parts move slowly, but in a good way like walking through an art exhibit where every piece asks for silence. The writing invites you to slow down and think, to notice the small textures of your own life as you read.
The language itself is beautiful. Simple, precise, and poetic without trying too hard. There are moments where a single line just hits you especially when he talks about art as “the mirror that keeps changing with you.” That phrase alone sums up the entire book for me.
By the final chapters, I felt grounded and inspired. This isn’t just a memoir; it’s a meditation on seeing, aging, and staying faithful to your creative spirit. I can easily say it’s one of the most authentic and quietly powerful books I’ve read in a long time.
What stood out to me most is how he doesn’t separate his life from his art. They’re woven together, inseparable. His reflections on architecture, painting, and the act of observation feel timeless. You can tell he’s spent years learning how to see not just with his eyes, but with patience and empathy.
There’s a tenderness in how he revisits his younger self. He doesn’t shy away from mistakes or insecurities. Instead, he explores them like an artist revisiting an old sketch, looking for what he missed the first time. That level of vulnerability makes the book feel intimate and sincere.
I also appreciated the pacing. Some parts move slowly, but in a good way like walking through an art exhibit where every piece asks for silence. The writing invites you to slow down and think, to notice the small textures of your own life as you read.
The language itself is beautiful. Simple, precise, and poetic without trying too hard. There are moments where a single line just hits you especially when he talks about art as “the mirror that keeps changing with you.” That phrase alone sums up the entire book for me.
By the final chapters, I felt grounded and inspired. This isn’t just a memoir; it’s a meditation on seeing, aging, and staying faithful to your creative spirit. I can easily say it’s one of the most authentic and quietly powerful books I’ve read in a long time.
December 6, 2025
I didn’t expect this book to grab me the way it did. I opened it one afternoon intending to skim a few pages, and instead I found myself pulled into a story that felt surprisingly intimate. The tone immediately made me feel like I was being let into someone’s private world, and that alone kept me reading.
The writing struck me as confident without trying too hard. There was something calm and steady about it the kind of storytelling that doesn’t need loud twists to keep you engaged. Each scene felt carefully built, and the emotions landed with a quiet honesty I really appreciated. It reminded me of why I love well-crafted fiction.
The characters were my favorite part. They were imperfect in the exact way real people are imperfect. Their reactions felt honest, their relationships felt layered, and their choices actually made sense. I caught myself caring about them without even realizing it, which is the best kind of reading experience.
The author did an amazing job balancing the internal and external parts of the story. There were moments where nothing huge was happening plot-wise, yet the emotional weight kept me glued. Those quieter scenes ended up being some of the most powerful ones for me.
By the time I got to the final chapters, I had that familiar bittersweet feeling wanting to know how everything wrapped up but not wanting the story to end. The ending was heartfelt and earned, and it left me sitting with my thoughts for a while afterward.
If you’re someone who loves character-driven stories that feel honest, warm, and grounded, this is absolutely a book you should pick up. It’s the kind of read that stays with you long after you finish it.
The writing struck me as confident without trying too hard. There was something calm and steady about it the kind of storytelling that doesn’t need loud twists to keep you engaged. Each scene felt carefully built, and the emotions landed with a quiet honesty I really appreciated. It reminded me of why I love well-crafted fiction.
The characters were my favorite part. They were imperfect in the exact way real people are imperfect. Their reactions felt honest, their relationships felt layered, and their choices actually made sense. I caught myself caring about them without even realizing it, which is the best kind of reading experience.
The author did an amazing job balancing the internal and external parts of the story. There were moments where nothing huge was happening plot-wise, yet the emotional weight kept me glued. Those quieter scenes ended up being some of the most powerful ones for me.
By the time I got to the final chapters, I had that familiar bittersweet feeling wanting to know how everything wrapped up but not wanting the story to end. The ending was heartfelt and earned, and it left me sitting with my thoughts for a while afterward.
If you’re someone who loves character-driven stories that feel honest, warm, and grounded, this is absolutely a book you should pick up. It’s the kind of read that stays with you long after you finish it.
December 6, 2025
I finished this book last night, and I can’t stop thinking about it. There’s something about the way the author builds emotion that feels so natural and unforced. It didn’t take long before I felt completely invested, almost like I was living alongside the characters instead of reading about them.
What grabbed me right away was the voice of the story it felt real. Not polished in a fake way, not dramatic for attention, just authentically human. The author knows how to make you feel something without spelling everything out, and I found myself absorbing the emotions between the lines.
The relationships in this book were beautifully written. Even the small interactions carried meaning, and I loved that the story didn’t rely on clichés or predictable rhythms. It respected the complexity of people and gave each character the space to breathe and grow.
I also appreciated how emotional the story felt without becoming heavy. There were moments that hit hard, but the book had a steady warmth running through it that kept everything balanced. I never felt overwhelmed just deeply connected.
The ending was one of those rare ones that felt both surprising and inevitable. When I closed the book, I had that full, settled feeling I only get from stories that have truly earned their final moment. It wrapped things up in a way that felt right.
I’d absolutely recommend this to anyone who loves thoughtful, heartfelt storytelling. It’s the kind of book that sneaks up on you emotionally and leaves a mark.
What grabbed me right away was the voice of the story it felt real. Not polished in a fake way, not dramatic for attention, just authentically human. The author knows how to make you feel something without spelling everything out, and I found myself absorbing the emotions between the lines.
The relationships in this book were beautifully written. Even the small interactions carried meaning, and I loved that the story didn’t rely on clichés or predictable rhythms. It respected the complexity of people and gave each character the space to breathe and grow.
I also appreciated how emotional the story felt without becoming heavy. There were moments that hit hard, but the book had a steady warmth running through it that kept everything balanced. I never felt overwhelmed just deeply connected.
The ending was one of those rare ones that felt both surprising and inevitable. When I closed the book, I had that full, settled feeling I only get from stories that have truly earned their final moment. It wrapped things up in a way that felt right.
I’d absolutely recommend this to anyone who loves thoughtful, heartfelt storytelling. It’s the kind of book that sneaks up on you emotionally and leaves a mark.
May 23, 2025
MY THOUGHTS -
There are so many reasons and so many ways to enjoy this book. First, of course, there are the numerous self portraits themselves. Each one different and unique. It is interesting to see them change throughout the book. There are also other drawings and sketches from Carlton Davis as well as pictures of artwork from other artists such as Van Gogh, Matisse, Frida Kahlo, and Andy Warhol just to name a few.
Then there is the fascinating story of Carlton, his wife and daughter and their breakup. His struggles with bipolar disorder, drug use and sadly, trying to destroy himself. Finally with professional help, a couple trips to the psych ward, rehab and medication he was able to overcome and basically get his life back on track.
But between all of this, there is also a lot of history. American history and art history. Such as the LA riots and the beating of Rodney King, the Black Panthers, the execution of Gary Gilmore, Mickey Mouse and the making of Fantasia, and even the attack on the twin towers.
This book was absolutely fascinating. It was very well done with something to look at and something interesting to take away from every page. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
I voluntarily posted this review after receiving a copy of this book from Author Marketing Experts. Thank You!
There are so many reasons and so many ways to enjoy this book. First, of course, there are the numerous self portraits themselves. Each one different and unique. It is interesting to see them change throughout the book. There are also other drawings and sketches from Carlton Davis as well as pictures of artwork from other artists such as Van Gogh, Matisse, Frida Kahlo, and Andy Warhol just to name a few.
Then there is the fascinating story of Carlton, his wife and daughter and their breakup. His struggles with bipolar disorder, drug use and sadly, trying to destroy himself. Finally with professional help, a couple trips to the psych ward, rehab and medication he was able to overcome and basically get his life back on track.
But between all of this, there is also a lot of history. American history and art history. Such as the LA riots and the beating of Rodney King, the Black Panthers, the execution of Gary Gilmore, Mickey Mouse and the making of Fantasia, and even the attack on the twin towers.
This book was absolutely fascinating. It was very well done with something to look at and something interesting to take away from every page. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
I voluntarily posted this review after receiving a copy of this book from Author Marketing Experts. Thank You!
December 12, 2025
I didn’t realize how much I needed a book like this until I started reading it. The story eased me in slowly, and before long I was completely absorbed. There’s something comforting about the way the author writes gentle, steady, full of emotion without trying too hard. It’s the kind of writing you settle into.
The characters felt incredibly familiar in the best possible way. I saw bits of people I know in them their struggles, their stubborn moments, their soft spots. That sense of realism made the story easy to connect with. I found myself reading slower at certain moments because I wanted to sit with what was happening.
I appreciated the way the author explored personal growth. It wasn’t dramatic or exaggerated. It was small, intentional steps the kind that feel real and honest. Watching the characters evolve without losing who they are felt surprisingly inspiring.
The world-building, even though it’s grounded in everyday life, was handled with such care that the settings felt vivid. I could picture the scenes clearly without being overrun by detail. It struck the perfect balance of atmosphere and simplicity.
As the book moved toward its final chapters, I could feel everything coming together in a way that made sense emotionally. The ending hit exactly the right note thoughtful, satisfying, and true to the heart of the story.
I’ve already told two friends to read this, and I’ll keep recommending it. It’s the kind of book that deserves to be passed around because of how quietly powerful it is.
The characters felt incredibly familiar in the best possible way. I saw bits of people I know in them their struggles, their stubborn moments, their soft spots. That sense of realism made the story easy to connect with. I found myself reading slower at certain moments because I wanted to sit with what was happening.
I appreciated the way the author explored personal growth. It wasn’t dramatic or exaggerated. It was small, intentional steps the kind that feel real and honest. Watching the characters evolve without losing who they are felt surprisingly inspiring.
The world-building, even though it’s grounded in everyday life, was handled with such care that the settings felt vivid. I could picture the scenes clearly without being overrun by detail. It struck the perfect balance of atmosphere and simplicity.
As the book moved toward its final chapters, I could feel everything coming together in a way that made sense emotionally. The ending hit exactly the right note thoughtful, satisfying, and true to the heart of the story.
I’ve already told two friends to read this, and I’ll keep recommending it. It’s the kind of book that deserves to be passed around because of how quietly powerful it is.
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April 9, 2025Inspirational and Empowering
"An Artist's Life" by Carlton Davis and Peter Lownds is a fascinating memoir and collection of self-portraits that reflect upon Carlton's life as both an artist and as a unique individual desperately searching for peace, love, and fulfillment. I like how he researched other artists and found a connection with them, which was very eye-opening (being an artist myself, I can relate to this). I admire his transparency with his mental health struggles, along with his courage to seek help for it, which many people struggle to do. He turned his life around and discovered coping mechanisms to deal with anxiety and depression, allowing him to build up his self-confidence, especially as an artist. I like how he uses humor throughout the book, which I'm sure many people will appreciate and relate to. My favorite part about this book is how he used the power of his creative mind to his advantage to defeat his mental health issues. How inspirational and empowering! I highly recommend this book to all readers who are looking for creative inspiration and insight into mental health issues.
"An Artist's Life" by Carlton Davis and Peter Lownds is a fascinating memoir and collection of self-portraits that reflect upon Carlton's life as both an artist and as a unique individual desperately searching for peace, love, and fulfillment. I like how he researched other artists and found a connection with them, which was very eye-opening (being an artist myself, I can relate to this). I admire his transparency with his mental health struggles, along with his courage to seek help for it, which many people struggle to do. He turned his life around and discovered coping mechanisms to deal with anxiety and depression, allowing him to build up his self-confidence, especially as an artist. I like how he uses humor throughout the book, which I'm sure many people will appreciate and relate to. My favorite part about this book is how he used the power of his creative mind to his advantage to defeat his mental health issues. How inspirational and empowering! I highly recommend this book to all readers who are looking for creative inspiration and insight into mental health issues.
May 26, 2025
MY Thoughts
There are so many reasons and so many ways to enjoy this book. First, of course, there are the numerous self portraits themselves. Each one different and unique. It is interesting to see them change throughout the book. There are also other drawings and sketches from Carlton Davis as well as pictures of artwork from other artists such as Van Gogh, Matisse, Frida Kahlo, and Andy Warhol just to name a few.
Then there is the fascinating story of Carlton, his wife and daughter and their breakup. His struggles with bipolar disorder, drug use and sadly, trying to destroy himself. Finally with professional help, a couple trips to the psych ward, rehab and medication he was able to overcome and basically get his life back on track.
But between all of this, there is also a lot of history. American history and art history. Such as the LA riots and the beating of Rodney King, the Black Panthers, the execution of Gary Gilmore, Mickey Mouse and the making of Fantasia, and even the attack on the twin towers.
This book was absolutely fascinating. It was very well done with something to look at and something interesting to take away from every page. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
I voluntarily posted this review after receiving a copy of this book from Author Marketing Experts. Thank You!
There are so many reasons and so many ways to enjoy this book. First, of course, there are the numerous self portraits themselves. Each one different and unique. It is interesting to see them change throughout the book. There are also other drawings and sketches from Carlton Davis as well as pictures of artwork from other artists such as Van Gogh, Matisse, Frida Kahlo, and Andy Warhol just to name a few.
Then there is the fascinating story of Carlton, his wife and daughter and their breakup. His struggles with bipolar disorder, drug use and sadly, trying to destroy himself. Finally with professional help, a couple trips to the psych ward, rehab and medication he was able to overcome and basically get his life back on track.
But between all of this, there is also a lot of history. American history and art history. Such as the LA riots and the beating of Rodney King, the Black Panthers, the execution of Gary Gilmore, Mickey Mouse and the making of Fantasia, and even the attack on the twin towers.
This book was absolutely fascinating. It was very well done with something to look at and something interesting to take away from every page. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
I voluntarily posted this review after receiving a copy of this book from Author Marketing Experts. Thank You!
May 30, 2025
An Artist Life by Carlton Davis with Peter Lownds is a book about the Artist Carlton Davis and his 50 years of self portraits. I mean wow, the self portraits are all different and special as you see them in this book. I also love how the author put in information on the other artists like Van Gogh as an example. There are so many ways to read this book and there is so much to the story of Carlton Davis and his family life also, and how as an artist, he suffered for his artwork and in his life. Alot of artists unfortunately have this same story about how they have had trauma, suffering, life happen to them in horrible and unexplainable ways sometimes. There is so much in this book about historical America also. You get to see a lot of what happened during these 50 years of the artisit's self portraits as well. It has such a message of strength and never giving up in this book, it was a superb read and I am so glad that it was sent my way!
January 24, 2026
An Artist life is a memoir that delves deeply into the author’s journey. The Author takes us with him in the 70s and shows us the barriers and pathways which artists take and what it means to be an artist in our world. A path filled with experiments, hope, struggle, excitement, setbacks as well as dangers. At the start of the book the author shares the level of hope and excitement he had to follow and execute his dreams but when reality and practicality struck he found himself teaching and practising architecture while trying to make ends meet and find his way ahead.
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Check out full review here: https://tappingintonewpages.substack....
December 9, 2025
I didn’t expect to be pulled in so deeply, but from the first chapters, Carlton Davis’s honesty hits you right in the chest. The way he writes about the unpredictable mix of confidence and doubt that follows an artist through their life felt so real. His reflections on the Art Dock years were some of my favorites chaotic, funny, and painfully vulnerable all at once. By the time I finished, I felt like I had walked the long, complicated road of creation right alongside him.
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December 9, 2025I’m not an artist, but this book made me feel like I understood the mind of one. The transitions in his life from early ambition to difficult setbacks to unexpected breakthroughs were so genuine. I especially appreciated the parts about Los Angeles’s art scene and how he carved out his own space in it. You can feel the weight of the risks he took and the passion behind every decision. Truly motivating.
December 9, 2025
I went in expecting a serious memoir, and while the book definitely has its emotional weight, I was surprised at how much humor Davis brings to his experiences. There’s a sharpness to the way he describes the absurd moments of the art world, balanced with heartfelt passages about growth, identity, and perspective. The combination makes the story feel incredibly human. I’m glad I picked this up.
December 9, 2025
What stayed with me most was Davis’s balance of storytelling and philosophy. His reflections on failure, survival, and reinvention were powerful, but never self-pitying. The chapter describing his struggle to reconcile the demands of everyday life with the pull of artistic expression was something I think anyone—artist or not—can relate to. This is a book that lingers after the last page.
December 6, 2025
I went into this book thinking I’d read just a chapter before bed, and instead I ended up reading until the sun came up. There’s something about the voice in this story that grabbed me immediately it felt intimate, almost like someone sitting across from me and telling me something they’d never said out loud before.
The writing style is one of the big reasons the story works so well. It’s clean, expressive, and effortlessly emotional without ever feeling dramatic. There’s a kind of sincerity running through the entire book that made it easy for me to trust the narrator and follow them wherever they were going.
The character development was a real standout. I loved how layered everyone felt no cardboard cutouts, no exaggerated villains, no overly angelic heroes. Just real people making real choices, sometimes wise, sometimes messy. Those imperfections made the emotional moments land with so much more impact.
There were scenes that genuinely caught me off guard, not because of big plot twists, but because of how truthfully they portrayed certain feelings. I found myself reflecting on parts of my own life while reading, which is always a sign that a story has hit the right nerve. It wasn’t just entertainment it was personal.
As I reached the final stretch of the book, I realized I’d grown surprisingly attached to the characters. The ending managed to be both satisfying and quietly powerful, tying things together without oversimplifying anything. It left me thinking in the best possible way.
If you enjoy books that feel personal, thoughtful, and quietly moving the kind that linger in your mind long after the last page this is absolutely worth reading. It’s a gem.
The writing style is one of the big reasons the story works so well. It’s clean, expressive, and effortlessly emotional without ever feeling dramatic. There’s a kind of sincerity running through the entire book that made it easy for me to trust the narrator and follow them wherever they were going.
The character development was a real standout. I loved how layered everyone felt no cardboard cutouts, no exaggerated villains, no overly angelic heroes. Just real people making real choices, sometimes wise, sometimes messy. Those imperfections made the emotional moments land with so much more impact.
There were scenes that genuinely caught me off guard, not because of big plot twists, but because of how truthfully they portrayed certain feelings. I found myself reflecting on parts of my own life while reading, which is always a sign that a story has hit the right nerve. It wasn’t just entertainment it was personal.
As I reached the final stretch of the book, I realized I’d grown surprisingly attached to the characters. The ending managed to be both satisfying and quietly powerful, tying things together without oversimplifying anything. It left me thinking in the best possible way.
If you enjoy books that feel personal, thoughtful, and quietly moving the kind that linger in your mind long after the last page this is absolutely worth reading. It’s a gem.
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